The Flame
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Chapterfic. AU. Parental!RoyEd. A blind man and a crippled boy. Such a strange pair. To pass the time as they recover in the hospital, Roy starts to tell his new friend a story. The story of the Full Metal Alchemist.
1. Poco Sostenuto

**Author's Note: The plot of this short chapterfic is very heavily based on the movie The Fall (starring Lee Pace and Catinca Untaru), and as such, if you've seen the movie you can probably tell everything that's going to happen ahead of time. Still, I hope it will be an interesting read to everyone, since the FMA characters are all quite different from the ones you meet in The Fall. If you haven't seen the movie yet, please go see it once you've gotten to the end of this fic! It's one of the most beautiful movies I've ever seen, but is tragically underrated.**

**When I finished watching The Fall for the first time (once I managed to reassemble myself from the awestruck pile of goo it had turned me into), the first thought in my head was: _FMA fanfic._ It was a pretty obvious leap, since Lee Pace's character was named Roy ;) But even beyond that similarity, I could see exactly how you could adapt the premise of The Fall to the FMA characters. It quickly became apparent that this would only work in an AU; this fic has a real-world, modern-day setting. I also realized that I needed to make Ed significantly younger for this to work. He isn't _quite_ as young as Alexandria in The Fall, but he's about seven years old. At such a young age, and with everything he has to deal with, he's much more vulnerable than we're used to, but I think it's believable in this situation. Hopefully it won't throw you out of the story.**

**Enjoy! There will be five chapters total in this fic. (Also, I feel compelled to point out that it's _technically_ still summer, so I haven't broken my promise to post this by the end of the summer :P)**

White-hot, searing pain. Angry orange light flickering against his eyelids. A hungry, crackling roar like the rush of a waterfall gushing over his head to consume him. And the heat – that heavy, clinging heat that made it so hard to breathe. Hot everywhere. All around him. He couldn't get out. Couldn't escape. The roar surrounded him, the deadly orange tongues licking up his legs and his arms, tickling his cheeks with tiny blades of agony. It wrapped around him, pulling him down into an abyss of pain.

Fire.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang woke with a start, a cry escaping his lips as he jerked upright. He flung his hands out into the darkness, grasping desperately for something to save him...and his hands met cloth. A blanket. Sheets on his bed.<p>

"Easy, now," said a familiar, gravely voice to his left, accompanied by the bright clinking of metal and glass. "You've had another nightmare, Mr. Mustang. Nothing to worry about."

As everything rushed back into place, Roy slowly sank back down onto his pillow. Of course. How could he have forgotten? For a moment, he was immobilized with the horror of knowing that his waking reality was hardly better than the nightmare. But with difficulty, he swallowed past the lump in his throat and gingerly touched the bandage around his eyes that locked him in this utter darkness. "Anything new to tell me, Dr. Marcoh?"

"It's still too soon to tell," Marcoh said kindly. "But it's too early to lose hope. For now, I think we just need to rest and stay optimistic, Mr. Mustang. All right?"

Roy nodded. Marcoh tended to talk as though he was suffering through his patients' ailments along with them, which Roy found slightly offensive. It was easy for _him_ to be optimistic; he could still see his hand in front of his face.

"All right, I need to continue on my rounds," Marcoh said cheerfully. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Just as his footsteps faded away out the door, Roy became aware of a squeaking sound growing louder. He shifted his head to hear it better, trying to place it. It was almost like...a wheel?

"You don't look like a horse to me," an unfamiliar voice suddenly said as the squeaking sound came to a stop right next to his bed.

"What?"

"The doctor called you a mustang, right?" The voice was high pitched – a child? "That's a kinda horse."

"Oh...that's my name. Roy Mustang." With a tiny grunt of effort, he sat up again and shoved the pillows behind his back so he could lean against the headboard. "What's your name, kid?"

"Ed. Edward Elric."

"So what're you in here for, Ed?"

"I was in a fire."

Roy tried to raise his eyebrows, but the bandage wouldn't let him. If his eyebrows had even survived, for that matter. "Really? Me too."

"Did your house burn down too? Is that why you've gotta bandage around your head?"

"Actually, I'm a firefighter." He smirked bitterly. "Perfect irony, huh?"

"Were you one of the guys who came to my house when it burned down?" Ed asked, a frown obvious in his voice. "'Cause ya didn't do a very good job."

"No, I was putting out a fire at a school," Roy said. "Sorry about your house. Anyone else get hurt?"

"Yeah," Ed said quietly. "My mom and my little brother died. Mom got stuck and then we tried to go back and get her out, but..."

"I'm sorry," Roy said quietly, reaching a hand out in the direction of the boy's voice. He meant to grab Ed's hand or arm, but instead his knuckles knocked against something metal and his hand landed on a leg. Except that the leg ended abruptly, before it even reached the edge of the chair. Roy froze, feeling as though he'd violated the boy's privacy. Awkwardly, he drew his hand back. "You...You lost your leg?"

"And my right arm." To his horror, Roy realized that the boy was starting to sniffle. "I...I'm a cripple now. I can't do...anything. Everybody has to help me all the time..."

Roy knew exactly how he felt. Unable to see, he was confined to his bed most of the time, and he had to call a nurse any time he needed to use the bathroom. Without someone to guide him every step of the way, he'd get lost in a heartbeat in this bustling, crowded hospital. It was humiliating, demeaning in the worst possible way. He felt like less than a man. He could only imagine what it must be like, to not even be able to walk or use both hands...

"Hey," he spoke up, desperately trying to cover up Ed's sniffles, "did you know you're named after a king?"

Ed sniffed loudly, then quavered, "Nuh-uh."

"That's right," Roy said, casting about for ideas. "King Edward the Sixth. And the Fifth, and the Fourth, and so on, but the Sixth is the interesting one."

Ed giggled a little, still sniffling.

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

"What do you know – that's exactly how old Prince Edward the Sixth was when the most amazing thing of his life happened!" He had no idea how old Edward VI had been, but he dredged up every memory he had of that book he'd read back in elementary school, filling in the gaps with his own imagination. "Would you like to hear the story?"

"Yeah!" There was a squeaking sound as he inched his chair closer.

Roy smiled and leaned closer to Ed, even though he couldn't see him. "Well, Prince Edward was a good prince – minded his manners, learned his lessons, did everything his father told him so he could be a good king someday. But...Prince Edward was lonely. He didn't have any brothers or sisters his age. He had two sisters, but they were much, much older than him, and they only liked to do...you know..._girl stuff._" He scrunched his nose up in a scowl of disgust, and was rewarded with an understanding _blehhh_ from his captive audience.

"And of course, because he was the royal prince, he couldn't just go running around playing with anyone. If he ever got a speck of dirt on his fine clothes, his servants would whisk him away to get them changed. If he ever fell down or decided he wanted to tussle with a dog or something, his bodyguards would rush to protect him!

"But one day, he looked out his window, and he saw a boy about his age – who looked _exactly like him._ And Prince Edward saw his chance. So he sneaked away from his servants and rushed outside to meet this other boy, who was named...um...Henry. And he said to Henry, 'We look so much like each other, we could fool anyone if we just changed clothes! You can be a prince for a day, and I can go play in the streets for a day.'

"Henry was a poor boy, and he'd always looked up at the castle and wondered what life must be like for the people who lived there, so he immediately said yes. So they switched clothes, and sure enough! No one could tell who was who. Prince Edward's servants came rushing to find him, and they shooed their own prince away, thinking he was a beggar! They took Henry into the castle, thinking that he was actually the prince."

"But didn't they see that they both looked the same?" Edward interrupted, all trace of tears gone from his voice.

"The servants never even thought that their prince might be wearing rags," Roy explained, feeling like he was adding some sort of moral to the story. "They were just looking at the outward appearance. It was the perfect disguise. So both boys happily went off, eager to see what such a different life was like. And they had fun that first day – Prince Edward got to play with boys his own age, and get as dirty as he could possibly please without anyone rushing after him, worrying that he would spoil his clothes. And Henry was dazzled with everything he saw – all of the prince's fine clothes, and the delicious food he got to eat, and a thousand servants rushing to appease his every whim.

"But as the sun started to go down, both boys were starting to get tired. Prince Edward was hungry and tired, and all of his new friends had to go home to their dinners. And Henry was starting to get tired of everyone treating him like he was made of glass. They did everything he told them to, but no one loved him. No one was his friend. But when Prince Edward tried to return to the castle, the guard at the gate wouldn't let him in. All he saw was a dirty street urchin. And Henry was hemmed in on all sides by his servants, unable to sneak out and escape the castle. They were stuck!

"And that night, something happened that made their situations even worse – the king died."

"Why was that worse?" Ed asked, his chair creaking as he leaned in to hear the story.

"Remember? Everyone thought Henry was the prince! So the next day, they started a parade to crown the prince as their new king. But no one knew that it was actually Henry, and Henry knew that no one would believe him. After all, he looked exactly like the prince!

"Meanwhile, Prince Edward had spent a miserable night, having to sleep in cold, hard doorways, chased by stray dogs... The next morning, he was grieved to hear that his father had died, but then he heard about the coronation ceremony, and he remembered that Henry was disguised as him. He had to stop it! So he rushed to the parade, and tried to get one of the guards to listen to him, but no one paid any attention to a dirty little boy claiming to be the real prince.

"Everyone in the city came out to watch the parade go past, cheering for the boy they thought would become their new king. Everyone...including Henry's mother. All of a sudden, Henry found himself face to face with his mother, who'd been dying of worry when Henry didn't come home that night. She, who'd been looking high and low for her son ever since, instantly recognized Henry for who he was. She screamed his name and rushed to him, and he tried to rush to her, and the whole parade came to a halt.

"In all the confusion, Prince Edward managed to fight his way to Henry, and then everyone could see how identical they looked. Eventually, they managed to explain to everyone what had happened and which of them was the real prince, and then Prince Edward was crowned as King Edward the Sixth. The new king gave Henry and his mother enough money so they could live comfortably for the rest of their lives, and invited them to come visit him at the castle whenever they wanted. And they all lived-"

"Wait," Edward broke in critically. "You mean they weren't twins?"

"What?" Roy, who'd been gesturing dramatically at the close of his story, let his hands droop back onto his lap.

"They looked exactly like each other! And nobody could tell the difference! They had to have been related _somehow!_"

"Er..." Roy hadn't thought about that part. Come to think of it, that _was_ highly improbable...

"Would you two _shut – up_ already!" a new voice suddenly spoke up from Roy's right. He recognized it as one of his roommates, in a bed in the opposite corner of the room. They hadn't had much conversation, since the other man had just gotten out of surgery today, but Roy had listened to him gripe at all of his nurses until he'd fallen asleep.

"Sorry to bother you, Kimbley," Roy said politely, trying to keep his dislike of the man from showing. "Just trying to pass the time."

"This isn't a bloody _nursery,_" Kimbley spat.

Once curses and ugly oaths began to pepper the man's speech, Roy leaned over to Ed and touched his shoulder, trying not to flinch when he realized he'd reached for the boy's missing right arm. He said in an undertone, "Hey, why don't you come back tomorrow? I'll tell you another story – a really epic one."

"What's epic?" Ed asked in a stage whisper.

Roy grinned, the beginnings of a plan already forming in his mind. "It means a really cool one."


	2. Vivace

**Author's Note: I suppose I should have mentioned this in the first chapter, but for those who might be unfamiliar with my posting policy, this fic has been completely written and proofread before I started posting. That means that, barring some kind of internet crash, a new chapter will go up every Friday. I like to write this way because then I can be sure that what I post will be worth your while.**

**In case you were wondering, the chapter titles come from Beethoven's 7th Symphony, which forms the backbone of The Fall's score. Though the written word unfortunately doesn't automatically have a score to go with it, I wanted to pay some small tribute to this beautiful piece anyway. I encourage you all to go find it somewhere and give it a listen. It's beautiful and soothing, but also gives the sense of impending conflict that I hope you can sense as my story unfolds.**

Edward Elric had quickly learned that you had to be extra smart when you were down to two limbs. Once he'd recovered enough to explore the hospital in his wheelchair, he'd realized that he needed a way to get around by himself. After all, Winry and Granny Pinako could only be there during visiting hours, and most of the nurses were too busy to push him around wherever he wanted to go. So he just taught himself how to push the chair with one hand.

It took several days of practice and almost knocking people over in the hallway, but in the end it was simple. Thankfully, he still had his left arm and right leg, so he pushed off the floor with his leg while pushing the left wheel forward with his hand. He ended up moving in a sort of wobbly zigzag most of the time, but he could keep to a basically straight route, and that was all that mattered. As long as he could go where he wanted to without having to ask for help, it wasn't too bad.

Most days, he liked to go around back of the hospital and watch the big trucks unloading food into the kitchens, as well as the occasional ambulance with its flurry of activity. But today, he had something much more interesting to do after Winry and Granny had left for the day. He zigzagged squeakily down the corridor from the elevator, passing only the occasional nurse now that the excitement of the day was winding down.

When he reached the right room, he hesitated outside the open door. A man sat in the chair next to Roy's bed—one last straggler lingering after visiting hours. Ed rolled up against the wall, waiting patiently. It was only a matter of time before someone came along and shooed the man away.

"You've gotta get yourself out of this rut, Roy," the man was saying. He had messy black hair, a scruffy sort of beard, and squarish glasses. He wasn't sure why, but Ed immediately liked him. Maybe it was the way he was looking at Roy, not even seeming to notice the thick bandage around the man's eyes. Ed liked it when people didn't stare, because staring made you feel like you were an animal in the zoo, rather than a person.

"I'm serious," the visitor continued. "You can't beat yourself up over what happened. She wouldn't blame you, you know. No one's perfect, Roy. You just have to accept that you're human, too."

Roy said nothing, just lay there frowning slightly. It was really hard to tell what expression he was wearing, since the only thing to go on was his mouth. But Ed didn't mind. That just meant Roy couldn't stare at him either.

Finally, the visitor seemed to give up. He stood and squeezed Roy's shoulder, smiling sadly. "Cheer up, Roy. Look on the bright side—at least now I can't pester you with photos of my beautiful Elysia, right?" With a chuckle, he strode out the door. He gave Ed a friendly smile as he passed, but Ed was already rolling into the room.

"Who was that?" he asked, stopping himself with his foot when he reached the bed. Roy just sat there, frowning. Ed would have almost thought he was asleep, if the man hadn't been talking to him. "Was he being annoying?"

"What?" Roy roused himself a little, turning his head to face him. "Ed? No...No, he's my best friend." He smirked a little. "But he _can_ be a little annoying, I guess."

Ed nodded sagely. "Winry is sometimes too."

"Is Winry your best friend?"

Scrunching his nose up, he thought about it. "I guess so. She's a girl, but she's okay." Suddenly he remembered why he'd come, and he leaned forward with a loud squeak of his chair. "So are you gonna tell me the story? The epic one?"

Roy sighed for a moment, then sat up straighter. "Sure. But first, you have to close your eyes, because our story starts on a dark and stormy night..."

Ed obediently closed his eyes, but he said, "You know that's a really lame beginning, right? _Every_ story begins that way."

"Do you want to hear this story or not?" Roy snapped, but he didn't sound angry. "It was a dark and stormy night, like any of a thousand dark and stormy nights, except this one...was broken by a scream. In the basement of a house on a hill in the countryside, a young boy lay on the floor, screaming in pain. He'd risked a powerful alchemic transmutation, but it had rebounded."

Ed opened his eyes again to frown at Roy. "Alchemic transmu-what?"

"Alchemy." Roy raised a finger. "It's the science of changing one form of matter into another."

"Oh, like magic."

Roy tilted his head. "Sort of, but it's governed by very specific laws, and to break them...well, this little boy had learned the consequences. One of the rules was the Law of Equivalent Trade. For everything an alchemist gained, he would have to give up something of equal value. No one was allowed to transmute gold, either. But most importantly of all...human transmutation was strictly forbidden."

"What's that?"

Roy leaned in closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Bringing the dead back to life. And that's what this boy had tried to do. He and his little brother tried to bring their mother back to life, but the transmutation backfired. Suddenly, everything was being pulled into a strange white portal. The boy lost his left leg, and the last thing he saw before blacking out was his brother being pulled away. He screamed his name-"

"Alphonse," Ed whispered. He could see his little brother again, screaming as the house collapsed around them. The last he'd seen of his little brother was him stretching his hand out to him, pleading...

"But the boy knew how to get his brother back!" Roy's voice crashed into his thoughts, reminding him of where he was. "If he gave up his arm, he could bring back his brother's soul and seal it to a suit of armor that was sitting in their basement. So the boy completed the transmutation, sacrificing his own arm to bring back his brother."

Ed grinned. "Hey, that's me! I'm in this story?"

"Only if you want."

"Okay, but you hafta be in it too!"

It was hard to tell behind the bandage, but Roy looked surprised. "Me? Okay... Well, the Elric brothers decided they wanted to get their bodies back if they could. If alchemy could take their bodies away from them, it could give them back. But they needed to find something that would be worth enough that they could trade it in. And one day, a man came to their house offering them a way. If they became State Alchemists, and worked for the military under him—Colonel Roy Mustang—he would help them find the Philospher's Stone. A legendary stone that was said to hold unlimited alchemic power.

"So the Elric brothers agreed. But first, of course, Edward Elric had to find a better way to move around. He wouldn't be a very good State Alchemist in a wheelchair, after all." He tapped the metal rim around one wheel. "So he went to his best friend Winry, who was an automail mechanic. She could build him _metal limbs,_ so he could walk again and become a State Alchemist."

Ed settled back in his chair, resting his chin comfortably on his one remaining hand, and let himself become submerged in the tale that Roy began to unfold. He imagined what it would be like, to have metal limbs that would actually allow him to _walk_ again. To have two hands again.

And as he listened, it was like he _became_ that other Edward Elric. It was like he had Al with him again. Together, they could face anything. Especially when he was _freaking awesome._

"Edward stood over the trembling priest and said, 'You want to feel the wrath of God? Well, let me show you!' Then he clapped his hands, and transmuted the huge statue of Leto. The giant stone fist crashed down mere inches away from Cornello, knocking him flat onto his back!"

Ed laughed appreciatively. He would have clapped too, if he had two hands. "That was _awesome!_ Where'd they go next?"

Roy held up a finger. "Before I continue, I want you to do something for me."

Eager to get him to continue the story, Ed prepared himself to go fetch something for Roy. "What is it?"

"I want you to play a little game. Hold your hand in front of one of my eyes—without touching—and I have to guess which one it is."

Ed wasn't sure what good that would be, since Roy's eyes were still bandaged, but he agreed anyway. Roy tilted his head back so that the fluorescent light would fall directly on his eyes, and Ed leaned forward. His arm wasn't quite long enough, so he had to clamber out of his chair and sit on the edge of Roy's bed. Kneeling was always an awkward position now that he only had one knee, so he had to lean against Roy's side to reach up and cover his eye, but Roy didn't seem to mind.

Precariously holding his position, Ed held his hand just over Roy's right eye, positioning his arm so its shadow wouldn't fall over his left as well. He stuck the tip of his tongue between his lips, waiting for Roy to guess. After a long pause, Roy said tentatively, "The...left one?"

Quickly, Ed switched the position of his hand. "Yep!" he said cheerfully, then plopped down to find a more comfortable position next to Roy. "So I guess Ed and Al went back to Central, then, huh? Where'd they go next to look for the Philosopher's Stone?"

But Roy was looking at him—or at least, pointing his face in his direction, even though he couldn't see anything. "Were you being honest just now?"

"Huh? Just get on with the story!" Ed's insides squirmed with guilt. He should've known that Roy would figure it out.

"No." Roy's strong hand gripped his shoulder—his right shoulder. Ed winced a little; his wound was healing, but it was still sensitive. "Did you lie about which eye it was?"

"Okay...yeah I did, but how could you expect to see anything through that bandage anyway?"

Roy let go and said, "Yeah...I guess so." But he leaned back and frowned at nothing.

Ed hunched his shoulders. Was he angry? "Please tell me more of the story?"

Running a hand through his messy hair and sighing, Roy said, "All right. When Edward and Alphonse went back to Central City, they asked Colonel Mustang if he had any leads that might lead them closer to their goal. He suggested they study under Shou Tucker, a State Alchemist who'd made a _talking chimera._"

Even though Roy's voice was normal as he continued the tale, Ed felt horrible for lying to him. He was probably angry. It didn't seem too much of a coincidence that Nina, who Ed instantly liked, ended up as one of Tucker's sick experiments and then killed by the mysterious scarred man.

With a scowl, he told himself silently that he _was not crying._ "Why'd she hafta die?" he mumbled, trying not to let his voice waver.

"It's a logical progression of the plot," Roy replied, sounding annoyed. "Scar was after all State Alchemists, and he knew that there was no way to put Nina back the way she was, so he put her out of her misery. It was kinder to her that way. Death...peace..."

He trailed off, so Ed poked him in the side. "Hey, did they catch Scar?"

Roy jerked at his poke, then smirked and poked Ed back. "_Actually,_ Scar hunted down the Elric brothers next."

Ed squeaked and tried to edge out of Roy's reach, but he was already on the very edge of the bed.

"Ed and Al were very sad about Nina's death, so they didn't even notice Scar until he was looming above them—ready to _attack!_" He jabbed all of his fingers into Ed's sides.

Ed shrieked with laughter and fell right off the bed with a _clunk._ Laughing, he scrambled up awkwardly again. "Hey, no fair! I've only got one hand!"

"Scar blasted apart Edward's arm!" Roy cried, lunging for him and somehow grabbing hold of him even though he couldn't see. "And he said, 'I will give you a moment to pray...before I blast you into oblivion!'"

Pinning Ed's arms to his sides with one arm, he used his other hand to tickle Ed mercilessly. But in the midst of his laughter, Ed noticed Kimbley, the tall thin man with long black hair, get up from his bed on the other side of the room and shuffle towards them. He hunched over as he walked, clutching his stomach as though it pained him, but he still managed to stomp across the room in a very menacing way.

Before Ed realized what was happening, Kimbley grabbed him by the collar and ripped him away from Roy. "All right, that's enough," he snapped. "I've had it up to _here_ with your shenanigans!" He shook Ed so hard that he lost his precarious balance, his one foot sliding out from under him. Kimbley released him, letting him fall in a heap on the floor. "This isn't a playground; this isn't Storybook Time in the Library!"

Roy had gone from laughing to clenching his jaw in the space of a second. He grabbed a fistful of Kimbley's unflattering hospital gown and jerked him down as if to look him in the eye. "You leave him alone," he growled, a note of danger in his voice that Ed had never heard before.

The old man in the bed across from Roy's calmly sat up, stepped into his slippers, and crossed over to Ed, helping him back up into his wheelchair. While Kimbley continued to shout, trying to break Roy's grip, the old man quietly pushed Edward all the way to the elevator and pressed the button.

"Don't be afraid, young man," the old man said with a kindly smile, laying a hand on the top of his head. "Kimbley is disagreeable to everyone, but with any luck, we'll be rid of him soon. Please come to our room again." He leaned closer and winked. "I want to hear what happens next in your story."


	3. Allegretto

**Author's Note: Happy FMA Day, everyone! :D What better way to celebrate than to read the next chapter of _The Flame_? Also, you may have noticed that I finally found a picture to use for cover art! XD In case you can't tell what it is (I had to crop it considerably for it to look anything approaching good), it's a burning wheelchair. Which I think is appropriate for this story.**

Ed sat off to the side, watching the trucks come and go behind the hospital. They would come in the evening, right around the time when all visitors had to leave. The hospital staff would unload the food and other supplies to keep the hospital running for the next day, then lock up the big doors and go home for the night. The whole bottom floor of the hospital would empty out, till only the night receptionist and a few people in the waiting room would remain.

He'd been here long enough, and he was a pitiful enough sight, that some of the truck drivers had befriended him. His favorite was the enormous, broad-chested man who drove the produce truck with all the crates of fruits and vegetables. He looked kind of funny, with his big blond mustache that nearly covered his mouth, and his bald head with only a single blond curl. But he was nice, and always had a few words for Ed.

"Edward Elric, how lovely to see you this fine evening!" he cried in his rippling, pompous voice, tossing Ed an apple as he unloaded crates.

Because Ed only had one hand, he had to scoop the apple against his chest to catch it. "Thanks!" Ed called out, taking a bite that crunched pleasantly. As he munched and looked down at the crisp white flesh of the apple, he got an idea. Brightening, he carefully set his apple in his lap and zigzagged his way closer to the truck.

"Watch yourself, Edward Elric," the truck driver said as he heaved another crate of apples onto his cart. "You don't want to get in the way and hurt your _other_ leg."

Ignoring his warning, Ed inched closer. "Hey, do you have carrots in there, mister?"

The man chortled, "Now, now, if you eat all of my produce, there'll be none for the other patients!" But he hopped up into the back of his truck and emerged moments later with a long, fat carrot.

Ed grinned and dropped the carrot into his lap along with the apple. "Thanks!" he called again, zigzagging as fast as he could back inside. The truck driver's good-natured laughter followed him the whole way.

When he reached Roy's room, Ed was pleased to see that it was empty. He didn't mind old man Grumman, who just lay quietly in his bed and listened to the story or napped, but he never liked it when Kimbley was in the room. Thankfully, whatever he was in this hospital for seemed to be serious, and he was often away for further treatment or therapy of some kind.

It was still hard to tell if Roy was asleep or not, because sometimes he would just sit there without moving, and Ed wasn't sure if he was dozing off or just bored. It had to get boring, when you couldn't even _see_ anything. But this time, he could see Roy fingering something, turning it over and over in his hands while he sat there.

When Ed eagerly squeaked his way over to the bed, Roy shoved whatever he'd been fingering under the covers, but Ed paid it no mind. He grabbed the carrot and shoved it into Roy's hand.

"Ed? What's this?"

"It's a carrot, dummy!" Ed snorted, picking up his apple again and taking another bite. "You should eat it, it's supposed to be good for your eyes, right?"

Roy froze for a moment, looking blindly in his direction. His mouth was slightly open, but Ed couldn't figure out from that what he was thinking. Then Roy closed his hands around the carrot and smirked. "Don't talk with your mouth full." He set the carrot on his nightstand, still smirking.

As he usually did now, Ed clambered out of his wheelchair and plopped onto the bed next to Roy, who moved his legs over to the side to make room for him. "So what happened next? They found out that the Philosopher's Stone was made from human lives—but they didn't give up, right?"

"No," Roy said slowly, settling back against his pillows. "They were close, though. After all these years, their only hope turned out to be a lie. Edward was so _tired_ of this same back-and-forth, with no solution in sight. But there was something nagging at him, one piece of the puzzle that still wasn't slipping into place."

Ed smiled, munching happily. That was one thing he liked about the other Edward Elric. He never gave up hope—at least not for long—and always found some way out of his problems. He could always move forward, no matter the setback. Ed wanted to be like that.

"So they looked at a map of Central City, and they found a fifth military laboratory, when there were only supposed to be four. And because it was built right next to Central Prison...well, Edward was starting to get suspicious. Ross and Armstrong told the brothers to stay put and let the adults check it out...but of course they didn't."

Ed giggled gleefully. These Elric brothers were a lot like him and Al, but their mischief was so much larger because they had so much more power. As he did every time he listened to the story, he wished that alchemy was real.

"They sneaked into Lab 5. It _seemed_ deserted, but the only way in was through a narrow chute that Edward was the perfect size to fit into."

"Hey, I'm not small!" Ed shouted, punching Roy on the arm. The man seemed to take a lot of pleasure in teasing him about his size—though how he could even _tell_ how tall or short he was without being able to see, he still hadn't been able to figure out.

Roy just laughed and continued with the story. "But as soon as they split up, both brothers were attacked by hollow suits of armor."

"Just like Al!"

"Exactly," Roy said with an eager nod. "They were prisoners whose souls had been put into suits of armor so they could act as guards of this place. Their orders were to kill any trespassers. And they had been serial killers before, so they were eager for a fight."

Ed sat facing Roy, listening avidly to his story. He hung onto every word as Roy described the battles the Elric brothers fought separately, mirroring each other in so many ways. He gasped when Slicer's helmet was suddenly cut in two, and the Homunculi came on the scene.

He thought he could feel the other Edward's pain and exhaustion as he emerged, barely alive, from that battle. His mind raced ahead, trying to figure out what the Homunculi's plans were. His heart ached to hear of Alphonse's confusion and suspicion. How could he think that Edward would have created him? That they weren't really brothers?

It was like Roy knew the story of his soul. Not the story of anything that had ever happened to him—or ever _would_ happen—but maybe this was what _could_ happen, if things were different. It made him forget the ache in his stumps, and his heart, for a few minutes. And as long as Roy talked about the Alphonse that was stuck in a suit of armor, Ed could almost hear his voice again.

Ed sat facing Roy on his bed, swinging his right leg absently over the side of the bed. He leaned forward as Roy lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"He looked up, only to see that Lust was materializing around the red stone in his hand. It didn't matter that he'd ripped it right from her chest. The Philosopher's Stone was her core, so as long as it remained intact, she could still regenerate. Before Mustang could react, two sharp fingers _sliced_ into his gut and he fell to the ground beside Havoc."

"No!" Ed cried, grabbing a fistful of blankets. Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't care. He grabbed Roy's knee and shook it. "He's not dead, right? He can't be dead!"

"Blood gushed out of his wound," Roy said relentlessly. "He tried to hold it closed, but it was too deep. He knew it was only a matter of time. Lust ripped his gloves to shreds, and left him there to bleed out."

"No!" Ed wailed, slamming his fist onto Roy's thigh and ignoring the man's _oof!_ of surprise. "It's not fair! You keep killing them—first it was Nina, then Hughes, and now you're killing Havoc and Mustang too?! It's not fair!" Angrily, he tried to wipe his tears away, but they only fell faster than ever.

Roy shifted a little, scratching the back of his head. "Um...don't worry, okay? They survive."

Ed froze in the act of scrubbing his hand across his face again. "They do?"

Roy hesitated a little too long before he said, "Yeah. Sure."

Wiping the last of his tears away, Ed scootched closer. "How'd he survive? Did someone come to save him?"

"Well, in the meantime Alphonse and Hawkeye had followed Barry to a large white chamber, where Lust caught up to them." He put a hand to his head. "And I can't remember what happens next."

"What?" Ed's eyes widened in horror. "You can't just stop there!"

Roy sighed, though there was something almost...careful about the way he did it. "I've been having trouble sleeping, and I can't remember the story very well."

"Well...then make something up!" In that moment, there was nothing more horrifying than the prospect of never finding out what happened to Mustang and the others.

"I can't just make something up!" Roy cried, as if scandalized. "This story has a very intricate plot, and it won't reach a satisfying conclusion unless I can tie all the loose ends together. I need something to help me sleep, or I won't be able to finish."

"Have you asked the nurse?" Ed suggested. "That's what they're here for, ya know."

Roy immediately frowned. "Don't you get it? She's the one who stopped giving it to me." He hesitated, then licked his lips and said, "You know where they keep the medicine, right?"

"Yeah," Ed said promptly. "It's on the first floor, down the hall from the kitchen."

"I need morphine," Roy said slowly. "I keep getting these horrible headaches. They're what's keeping me awake at night."

Ed knew about morphine. That was what they'd given him when he first came here, when they amputated his arm and leg and his stumps throbbed with unbearable pain. If Roy was hurting so much he needed morphine, it must be pretty bad. Ed wondered how he'd managed to stay so cheerful all this time, if they weren't giving him morphine.

"Don't worry, Roy," he said with determination. "I'll get you some, as soon as I can."

Roy's smile was small. He must still be hurting. "Hey, I think I remember a little more of the story," he said, rubbing his head again.

Ed started swinging his leg again as Roy continued his tale. He listened breathlessly as Lust informed Hawkeye that her superior was dead, and she went completely berserk—then lost all hope. By the time Roy described Mustang's dramatic appearance, with a cauterized wound and a circle sketched into the back of his hand, Ed was crying again. This time, his tears were full of relief and gratitude that Mustang still lived.

He didn't notice the wistful tone of Roy's voice.

* * *

><p>Ed planned his mission out as carefully as the other Edward had sneaked into Lab 5. It was simple, when it came down to it. All he had to do was sit outside behind the building and watch the trucks like he always did. Because he did this every day, no one bothered him even though it was still broad daylight and most of the trucks came in the evening. But he was determined to wait out here as long as it took, even if he had to keep coming back every day, because he knew he couldn't return to Roy until he had those pills.<p>

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait longer than an hour or two before he heard the sound of sirens. As the ambulance screeched into the parking lot, blue lights flashing in every direction, Ed supposed he probably shouldn't be so happy to see it. It meant that someone was really sick, or had been in some horrific accident. They might even die. But despite all that, Ed couldn't feel very sorry for them. They offered the perfect opportunity.

People dressed in the blue scrubs of this hospital rushed out of the building to help the staff inside the ambulance. Ed watched quietly from his spot out of the way as they opened the back doors and pulled out a stretcher to lay on the waiting gurney. As they rushed past him through the big doors, Ed caught sight of a man wearing an oxygen mask, the dark skin of his face reddened with blood. Ed happened to glance down at the arm lying on top of the blanket, and his insides squirmed as they saw the raw, reddened flesh. He knew exactly what caused those marks.

Fire.

After the crowd of people rushed through the doors and the driver of the ambulance pulled the vehicle into its spot, Ed snapped out of his reverie. Now was his chance, while everyone nearby was focused on getting that man to the emergency room so they could save his life.

Carefully, trying his hardest not to squeak, Ed wheeled himself back into the hospital. Just to be safe, he checked up and down the hall, but no one was in sight. He hurried down the hall to the door marked _Dispensary._ It occurred to him that he had no idea what to do if the door was locked—after all, he couldn't exactly transmute a hole in the door like the other Edward—but thankfully, it opened at his touch.

Through this door was a little room with no windows, lined with shelves full of boxes and bottles. A long table was filled with various bottles and bowls containing strangely colored liquids and powders. Ed knew he didn't have much time, so he set off down the rows, scanning the titles on the containers as quickly as he could. There were a lot of fancy-sounding names that he didn't understand. Finally he spotted a familiar-sounding title, which he recognized as the little round pills he took to manage his pain now.

And sure enough, farther down the row was a little brown bottle stamped with the word _MORPHINE._ But it was up on the highest shelf, far above his head. Way too high to reach.

For a moment, Ed slumped in his chair, sure he was defeated. If he'd had all four of his limbs, maybe he could have climbed up the shelves like a ladder, but he'd never make it with just two. Why had he even bothered?

_What would the Full Metal Alchemist do?_ The thought suddenly popped into his head, and he imagined the other Edward in his position. He never let physical limitations get in the way of what he wanted. He would use his brain and his skill to figure something out.

Ed looked around the room. He didn't have alchemy, but he still had his brain. Finally, he saw what he needed. He wheeled himself over to a chair, where one of the pharmacists seemed to have left his bag and coat while filling prescriptions. Hanging from the back of the chair was a long black umbrella with a curved handle.

Feeling proud of his ingenuity, Ed grabbed the umbrella and brought it back to the shelf with the morphine. If he knelt carefully on his one knee and raised the umbrella as high as he could, he could barely reach far enough to hook the handle around the bottle he needed. Carefully...ever so carefully...

_Smash._

Ed froze, cringing at the loud sound of the glass bottle shattering on the floor. If anyone was near the room, they were bound to hear it and come to investigate. When the door didn't open immediately, Ed quickly returned the umbrella to its place and went back for the morphine. He stared in dismay at the broken bottle lying on the floor in the middle of a mountain of white pills. Some of them were crushed to bits, and many had skidded under the surrounding shelves.

But there was no time to waste cleaning up his mess. He reached down, grabbed a handful of pills, and shoved them into his pocket. Then he left the room as fast as he could. He didn't notice the dusty tracks his wheels made halfway down the hall, making white zigzags that showed up starkly against the blue tiles of the floor.


	4. Presto

**Author's Note: Sorry for the small delay in posting. I have kind of mixed feelings about this chapter. The Fall does this part of the story so smoothly, you can immediately intuit what's going on and understand all the reasons for it. But, not being a genius like the creators of that movie, I'm afraid my writing might lead to confusion. Hopefully my fears are unfounded and you'll understand everyone's reasons for doing what they do.**

When Ed first entered Roy's room again, he knew immediately that he couldn't hand over the pills right away. Old man Grumman sat in his chair while the nurse put new sheets on his bed, and Kimbley was lying in his bed. Thankfully, his eyes were closed, so they didn't have to worry about him yet. Grumman winked at Ed as he passed. Ed smiled back, his mind fixed on the bulge of the pills in his pocket. He wondered if they would help Grumman too.

"Hey, squirt," Roy said with a small smirk. He must be feeling better.

"I'm not short!" Ed protested indignantly as he hopped up onto the bed. "You can't even _see_ me, so how would you know anyway?"

His grin widened. "Just a lucky guess. Do you want to hear more of the story?"

Ed immediately swallowed another protest and cried, "Of course I do!"

"When he woke up in the hospital," Roy said, "Mustang scolded Hawkeye for believing what the enemy told her. 'Never give up on living,' he said. 'Not even if I die.'"

As Roy continued the story, Ed kept an eye on the other occupants of the room. Grumman lay back down and seemed to fall asleep while Roy explained how Edward reunited with Alphonse and the others. Kimbley woke up and grumbled irritably as the story turned to Mustang's daring plan to capture one of the Homunculi and gather valuable information.

But soon Ed forgot all about his surroundings, caught up once again in the twists and turns of the story. The Elric brothers and Mustang's team worked together on an ingenious plan to lure out the Homunculi, until finally Ling managed to tie Gluttony up with steel cables and race off with him in Hawkeye's car. He almost forgot to breathe when Gluttony suddenly burst out of his bonds that night, maddened with rage as he realized that the one who had killed Lust was there.

Just as it was really getting good—when Gluttony in his frenzy swallowed Edward, Ling, and Envy in one gulp—Roy suddenly turned to Ed and said, "Did you bring it? Did you get what I asked you for?"

"Don't just stop there!" Ed whined, flopping onto his back in frustration. "You always do this—you stop right when things get interesting!"

Roy's knee nudged him upright again. "Did you get the medicine or not?"

Ed glanced around, realizing for the first time that Kimbley was gone and Grumman was snoring gently in his bed. He hadn't noticed anything that was happening around him, only the engrossing story unfolding in his head. "Yeah, yeah," he said reluctantly. Fishing around in his pocket, he pulled out a handful of the little while pills and dropped them into Roy's waiting hand.

Roy's mouth pressed into a thin line. "What is this?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice. "Why didn't you bring me the whole bottle?"

"That was all I could get, okay?" Edward forced anger into his voice, but he shrank back from the tone of Roy's voice. Even though he could only see the lower half of the man's face, he knew Roy would be glaring at him if he could. Ed picked at a loose thread in the blanket. "The bottle broke. I got what I could. Will that help you sleep?"

Heaving a deep sigh, Roy leaned back into his pillows. "A nap, perhaps."

Ed supposed he should probably wait for Roy's anger to die down, but he couldn't contain himself anymore. Leaning forward eagerly, he said, "So what happened next? They didn't die, did they?"

For a moment, it looked like Roy wasn't going to answer. But finally he said, without straightening up from his pillows, "No, they didn't die. They found themselves in a deep, dark place with only a few stray flames burning for light. Everything was covered in blood—an _ocean_ of blood that came up to Edward's knees. No matter how far they walked in any direction, there was no escape. There was only more of the same darkness, the same blood everywhere. They were trapped...inside Gluttony's stomach."

Ed relaxed again as Roy continued the story. He didn't seem to be _too_ angry about the slip-up, though he kept fingering the pills in his hand thoughtfully. He explained what Alphonse and Mustang were doing while Edward, Ling, and Envy fought and tried to figure out how to escape Gluttony's stomach. Ed gasped in horror when Mustang's team was disbanded and sent to the four corners of the country, all of them practically becoming hostages to keep Mustang in check.

But just when Edward opened the portal and they all jumped through to try to escape their dark, bloody prison...Roy stopped yet again. "Take this," he said conspiratorially, dropping something into Ed's hand.

Looking down, Ed saw a small key, warmed from Roy's skin. "What is it?"

"It's the key to Kimbley's cupboard," Roy said, nodding in the direction of Kimbley's bed. "He keeps all of his things in there; I think he's afraid we're going to steal them."

Ed rolled his eyes; that sounded exactly like the sort of paranoid thing Kimbley would do.

"I think he's got some morphine in there too," Roy said slowly, as if waiting for Ed to make some kind of connection.

Ed frowned, understanding what he was getting at. "But we can't just _take_ it. That would be stealing."

"Not if your commanding officer orders you to do it."

Ed frowned, shifting reluctantly. He did so want to be like the Edward of the story, who got to do so many cool things and go on so many exciting adventures. Even when he complained about all the work Mustang made him do, he still liked being able to help people. And Roy needed help now. If he didn't take the pills to make the pain go away, he couldn't sleep. And the doctors were always saying that sleep was the best medicine. Besides, Kimbley was a grumpy grouch no matter how much medicine he took.

"Look-" Roy started.

"Okay," Ed said at the same time. "I'll do it."

"Okay."

Moving carefully so as not to wake up Grumman, Ed eased himself back into his wheelchair and moved over to Kimbley's vacant bed. The bedside table had a small locked compartment that the key opened immediately, and Ed looked over the two small shelves inside.

Kimbley didn't seem to have too many personal effects. A few handkerchiefs, a white suit folded carefully that he would probably wear when he got out of this place—and a small brown bottle filled with white pills. There was no label, but it looked exactly like the one he'd found in the dispensary, so he grabbed it and carefully closed the cupboard door.

When he climbed back up onto Roy's bed, Roy grabbed the bottle eagerly and shook it, making it rattle cheerfully with the multitude of pills inside. "Thank you," he said softly. "This is what I need." He slowly opened the bottle and added the pills to the few he already had in his lap. The white mountain of pills looked like a cluster of pearls against the blue ocean of the blanket, infinitely precious.

Roy drew a breath, then said slowly, "When I...go to sleep, you have to go, okay? And don't come back tomorrow."

Ed furrowed his brow, trying not to feel hurt. He was probably just saying that so he could be sure of getting a really good rest this time. It was probably annoying to keep on being bothered by a crippled boy demanding to be told a story. "Okay."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," Ed said, gripping Roy's pinky with his own. "But tell me more of the story first!"

Ed stayed there for hours, listening to the unfolding story. Roy kept talking, even when his voice grew hoarse. They ignored the doctors and nurses checking on the occupants of the room, paid no attention when Kimbley stumbled back into the room, and didn't even stop for dinner. Every time Roy looked like he was ready to stop, or his hand strayed to the pile of pills, Ed quickly interjected a question to make him keep going. He wanted to get as much of the story as he could, since he wouldn't be able to hear any more tomorrow.

As the hours passed, Roy introduced the leader of the Homunculi, who looked just like the Elric brothers' father. He went on an extended detour, telling the history of the Ishbal War. The story continued on to Briggs as he described the snow-covered peaks and pine forests of that frigid northern land. When Kimbley himself entered the story, Ed giggled at how crazy Roy was making him. The real Kimbley glowered at them and grumbled every time his name came up, but Roy seemed to enjoy making him as villainous as possible.

Ed winced as Roy described the fight between Edward and Kimbley that left Edward grievously wounded, and hung breathlessly to every word as Alphonse's soul kept fading in and out, threatening to disappear altogether. He listened raptly as Roy explained the full story of where Hohenheim came from and how Homunculus tricked him into becoming a living Philosopher's Stone.

Soon everything was in place for the Promised Day, and Ed was afraid that Roy would stop there. But Roy kept going, caught up in his own tale. He described the battle against Pride and the assault against Central Command the very next morning. All the main characters found their way to the underground tunnels beneath Central, fighting the soulless dolls and the Homunculi.

Ed shuddered as Roy described the murderous frenzy Mustang descended into as soon as he discovered that Envy had killed Hughes. He was an inch away from becoming a bloodthirsty murderer, forsaking every ideal he stood for. But Edward, Hawkeye and Scar managed to pull him out at the last possible moment, and Ed breathed a sigh of relief.

Roy finally started taking the pills once Envy had destroyed himself and faded away. Ed glanced up and realized to his surprise that the window was black. Both Grumman and Kimbley were asleep by now, and the nurses were changing shifts. "Then what happened?" Ed asked almost desperately, clutching at Roy's sleeve.

But Roy just shrugged him off and kept swallowing the pills dry, one by one. Slowly, in between swallows, he described the battle against the gold-toothed doctor's bodyguards. Finally he swallowed the last of the pills and lay back against his pillows, explaining how a great eye appeared beneath Edward, Alphonse, and Izumi. They all disintegrated, disappearing to who knew where.

As he described how the gold-toothed doctor threatened Mustang, cutting Hawkeye's neck and letting her bleed out on the ground, Roy's voice began to slow down and slur a bit. Ed could tell he was close to falling asleep, but he kept poking Roy in the side, prompting him to continue. He didn't think he could stand it if Roy left the story hanging with Hawkeye's life in question.

Thankfully, they managed to save Hawkeye when Mei and the chimeras arrived just in the nick of time. But then the Homunculi forced Mustang through the Doors of Truth, sending him into the same room as the others, turning him into the fifth human sacrifice.

"And then he...opened his eyes and realized...that he couldn't see a thing." Roy's voice was fading by the minute; Ed had to lean in close to hear him above the chatter of the nurses in the hallway. Eventually, he ended up lying on his stomach, resting his elbow on Roy's chest and propping his chin in his hand. He could feel Roy's voice vibrating beneath him. "He was completely blind. The Truth had taken his sight away from him. Cruel...he couldn't save anyone anymore. Couldn't help them anymore..."

"Then what happened?" Ed prompted again, hanging onto every word.

"The time...had come. The moon slid over the sun...a total solar eclipse. And...Father started the transmutation. Edward...Alphonse...Izumi...Hohenheim...and Mustang. They were the five points of the circle. The circle Father had made around the entire country... Everyone in the entire country...fell to the ground...and their souls left their bodies...flew into the air...soaring into Father. A massive...Philosopher's Stone...leaving everyone but the sacrifices...dead."

A chill of horror settled over him. "But that wasn't the end!" Ed pushed himself up on his elbow, but Roy didn't even grunt in discomfort. "They had a backup plan in place! Hohenheim had figured it all out ahead of time!"

"Wha...?" Roy's voice came out in a vague grunt.

"Yeah!" Ed continued excitedly. "When the moon moved on, it made a shadow on the earth! And that created a second circle, one that Hohenheim had fixed up already! It reversed Father's transmutation, and put all the souls back where they belonged!"

"Yeah..." Roy whispered. "Yeah, that's right..."

Then he became completely still and silent. Ed waited for more of the story, but after a moment or two he realized that Roy was fast asleep. He lay there for another minute, staring at Roy's mouth as it opened slightly, the man's head settling to the side. Then Ed pushed himself upright, careful not to jostle the bed too much, and settled back into his wheelchair. He took one last look over his shoulder when he reached the door, then wheeled himself out into the hall.

He wished Roy could at least have said good night.

* * *

><p>When Ed woke the next morning, he felt the usual rush of excitement as he thought of seeing Roy again and hearing more of the story that made him a hero. But then he remembered that he'd promised not to visit him today. His heart sank down into his toes, and he heaved a huge sigh. Today would be so <em>boring.<em> He had no idea how he would occupy himself until visiting hours.

As he ate his breakfast and let the nurse help him wash up and change into clean pajamas, Ed kept mulling over everything that had happened in the story yesterday. They'd managed to avert the greatest disaster the world had ever known and thwart Father's plans, but there were still so many questions left unanswered. Still so many ways it could all go wrong. There was no way Father would just take his defeat lying down. Ed couldn't _wait_ to find out what happened next.

Because he had nothing better to do until Winry and Granny Pinako showed up, Ed meandered down to the back lot behind the hospital to watch for ambulances. To his shock, when he got to the doorway he found a small huddle of men and women in scrubs pushing a gurney out the door to a truck he'd never seen before. They weren't hurrying like they usually did when they brought someone in an ambulance, and they'd pulled the sheet up over the person's head so none of his features could be seen.

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to him. What if the reason Roy had made him promise to not come back...the reason he was in so much pain...

"No!" Ed cried, causing the adults pushing the gurney to glance over their shoulders. He wheeled himself outside as quickly as he could towards the body under the sheet. "Who is that? What happened to him?"

"Ed, go back inside," a kind-faced woman with black hair said.

But Ed pushed past her and grabbed the edge of the sheet. "No! Roy!" The sheet slipped down and he grabbed one of the pale, greyish feet that lay bare on the gurney. The toes were as cold as ice. "Don't give up now!"

"Take him back inside," a man snapped, jerking the sheet back over the feet and prying Ed's hand away.

The kind-faced nurse pulled the wheelchair away. Ed screamed and slammed his foot down on the ground, but the nurse was stronger. His slipper came off and his foot no longer had enough traction to keep him in place. The nurse wheeled him away, and no matter how loud he yelled, the door closed behind them with a bang. He wilted in his chair, gradually becoming aware that tears poured down his cheeks.

The nurse was talking to him in a low, soothing voice, speaking meaningless phrases like _passed in his sleep_ and _lived a full life._ People said all manner of meaningless things when someone died, but it rarely helped. The only thing that had helped, after the fire had taken his family away, was Roy's story. A fantasy he could lose himself in. Another world where he could pretend that things had happened differently and he could still put things right again.

But now he had been plunged back into cold reality, and he acknowledged what he should have realized long ago: He was alone.

"Sometimes we have to say goodbye too soon," the nurse was saying as she pushed the button to summon the elevator. "But this is just another part of life that you're going to have to learn to deal with." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The nurse wheeled Ed inside and pushed the button for his floor. Before she let the doors slide shut between them, she smoothed his hair away from his face. "I'm sorry you have to learn this lesson so soon."

Ed kept sniffling as he rode the elevator alone, and didn't move when the doors slid open again. He sat there, feeling a cold pit expanding in his stomach. Just when he thought he couldn't lose anything more...

The elevators doors slid shut again and he slowly raised his hand to press the button for Roy's floor. Still crying, he pushed himself down the hall and nearly ran into a couple people in the hallway. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. He noticed a large laundry basket—the huge kind with wheels that the hospital staff piled high with linens every day—sitting in the hallway, and he swallowed painfully. He pushed himself through the open door, and looked up.

"Roy!"

The wheelchair had never moved so fast. In an instant, he was at Roy's bedside, clambering awkwardly up onto the mattress as he had so many times before. He froze in a precariously balanced crouch, staring down at the man in the bed.

Roy, lying in the same position he'd left him the night before, stirred groggily, shifting his head from side to side even though he couldn't see. He didn't greet Ed or offer to tell more of the story. But he was alive.

"Roy..." Ed's entire body shuddered with sobs as his friend slowly smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "I'm sorry, I know I promised, but they were taking out a dead body and I thought it was you and I thought you were dead but you're alive and-"

"Oh, would you be _quiet?_" An all-too-familiar voice snapped. Kimbley shuffled over to them, gripping his midriff as usual. "The old man just _died,_ don't you get it? This is no time for fun and games!"

Kimbley jabbed a finger at Grumman's bed, which Ed realized for the first time was empty. The sheets had been stripped from it, and all of the old man's belongings had been cleared away from his bedside table—even his glasses and hat.

Before Ed could feel more than a small sting of regret, Roy muttered, "Sugar."

"What?" Kimbley snapped.

Roy's hand reached over to his bedside table and grasped the brownish bottle Ed had retrieved from Kimbley's cupboard. "Sugar pills. THEY'RE FEEDING YOU _SUGAR!_" He threw the bottle across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

"Was that-" Kimbley grabbed Roy by the collar. "Did you steal _my medicine?_"

"You're not even sick!" Roy grabbed Kimbley's arm so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Stop!" Ed raised himself up on his single knee, feebly trying to break the men's grip. "You're going to get-"

"Get out of the way, you little brat!"

Kimbley swung his other arm at Ed, easily knocking him to the floor. A sharp cry broke from Ed's lips as he fell, slamming the stump of his left leg against the metal frame of the bed. At first, he barely even registered the pain. He stared up at the two men towering above him.

Roy wouldn't be able to tell what had happened, but he had heard Ed's yelp of pain. He launched himself out of bed, throwing all his weight against Kimbley. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

The two men struggled on the floor, expending all their pent-up energy from weeks of bed rest. Nurses and doctors rushed into the room at the sound of the commotion, trying to pull the men apart without hurting them further. Ed huddled in a heap on the floor, clutching his throbbing leg and gaping at the men he thought he'd known. They looked more like animals now, snarling and scratching. Even though the upper half of Roy's face was concealed, his jaw was locked in a tight snarl. He looked like he wanted to dig his teeth directly into Kimbley's neck.

Dimly, Ed became aware that a nurse was picking him off the floor, placing him back in his chair, and wheeling him back to the elevator. The sounds of the fight echoed down the hallway after them.


	5. Allegro con Molto

**Author's Note: Well, everyone, this is it! The last chapter. I just want to thank everyone who's shown interest in my crazy little idea. I wasn't expecting much interest in this one, just because hardly anyone has even heard of The Fall. Speaking of which, I want to encourage everyone again to watch the movie if you get a chance; it really is a masterpiece. Much more a work of art than this thing!**

**A short note to anyone who's following me or is interested in reading more: From now on, I will be updating the Updates section at the bottom of my profile once a month to keep everyone up-to-date on my progress towards the next chapterfic. I'm probably going to go silent for quite a while, but that's not because I've stopped writing! It just means I'm working on more chapterfics, which probably will not see the light of day until after I graduate, at least.**

**Again, thanks to everyone for reading!**

Ed huffed out another sigh and rolled over onto his other side. No matter how much he fussed and fidgeted, he couldn't seem to get comfortable. He tried squeezing his eyes shut, then stared up at the dark ceiling. The stump of his left leg still throbbed dully—not painful enough to worry him, but insistent in a lingering sort of way that made it impossible to fall asleep. He decided he must have twisted his neck or something too, because a dull headache pounded away at the base of his skull.

With nothing else to occupy him, his mind kept returning to Roy. A cold knot of anxiety twisted and tightened in the pit of his stomach every time he thought of the expression on Roy's face. It was like the man he'd befriended had suddenly vanished, to be replaced with a snarling monster.

He needed to sleep. He was exhausted, his emotions run ragged after all the excitement of the day. But no matter how still and silent he lay, everything hurt too much—inside and out.

His eyes popped open again. Of course! He knew exactly what to do when it hurt too much to go to sleep. If it worked for Roy, surely it would work for him too!

Moving as quietly as he could so as not to alert the night staff, Ed eased himself out of bed and into his wheelchair. He checked carefully before venturing into the hall, but he knew that in between their hourly rounds, the nurses sat in the dimly-lit nurses' station and watched late-night talk shows or gossiped about the petty scandals of the hospital. He'd snuck out of bed and eavesdropped plenty of times until he realized how boring they were.

Ed winced as the elevator dinged, but he made it safely inside before anyone came to investigate. On the ground floor, all was dark except for the receptionist's desk. Unless an ambulance came in the night, all would be quiet until morning. He breathed a sigh of relief when he slipped through the door of the dispensary and closed it softly behind him.

For some reason, he'd half expected the pills to still be scattered all over the floor, but when he flicked the light on he saw that the floor was clean and everything was in its place. This time, he took the time to poke around in the cupboards and under the table, and after only a few minutes of searching he found a small stepladder. Pleased with himself, he placed the stepladder sturdily in front of the right shelf and clambered up on his one leg. He balanced himself carefully, then grabbed a new bottle of morphine pills. With only a little bit of wobbling, he made it back into his chair. No loud crash, no mess. Easy.

After he'd put the stepladder away again, Ed struggled to open the bottle. Eventually he managed it by gripping the cap in his teeth and turning the bottle with his hand. He pulled out the wad of cotton they always stuck in medicine bottles for some reason, then fished out a pill.

He'd watched Roy swallow all the pills dry, but Ed only succeeded in choking and coughing when he tried. The bitter taste of the slowly-dissolving pill made him gag, and he spit it out quickly into the trash can. Grimacing at the taste, Ed carefully left the dispensary again. It was still dark and quiet, so he made a beeline for the nearest drinking fountain.

All the drinking fountains in this hospital had a dispenser next to them with little plastic cups you could fill up. It was supposed to be more sanitary or something. Ed had to stand up to reach the fountain, but by leaning his body against the switch, he managed to fill up a cup. Then he sat back down and grabbed a handful of morphine pills, washing them down with a gulp of the cool water.

It occurred to him, when he'd swallowed half of the pills, that he should probably have waited until he got back to his room to start taking the medicine. His vision was starting to blur, and his limbs felt heavy. But he kept swallowing the pills, pausing only to refill his cup.

He couldn't feel the pain at the back of his neck, nor the throbbing in his leg. He couldn't feel much of anything anymore. He was gliding away, lifting up out of his body like all those souls Father had pulled out of the people of Amestris. It was even getting dark, as though there was a solar eclipse...

Dimly, he was aware of the cold, hard floor pressed against his cheek, the brown bottle rolling away from him with the last few pills rattling around inside it. No...he needed those...

Why did he need them again? He couldn't remember. Maybe...maybe they could save the people of Amestris...

Utter darkness enveloped him.

* * *

><p>Flames roared up around him. He turned around wildly, looking for an escape, but the fires greedily ate up everything around him. He was completely surrounded. Smoke billowed up around him, stinging his eyes and making him cough. When he tried to suck in a breath, it wheezed painfully in his throat as though his lungs didn't want to expand.<p>

Someone was calling his name. The voice echoed around him indistinctly, and he strained to hear it over the crackling of the fire.

"Brother!"

He gasped, not caring how his breath stung his throat. "Al!" he yelled.

"Brother!" the voice cried again, now directly in front of him.

He hesitated, eying the flames fearfully, but he knew he couldn't abandon that voice. So he screwed his eyes shut and raced forward, jumping right into the heart of the fire. It seared his flesh, and he screamed and dropped to his knees. He looked behind him at his left leg and saw to his horror that it was nothing but a lump of iron.

"Brother!" screamed the voice again.

He looked up and saw Al standing in front of him, a circle of fire hemming him in. "I-I'm scared, Brother..."

"Al!" He tried to get up and run to his brother's rescue, but his leg was melting in the heat of the flames. It stuck to the floor, and no matter how hard he tugged on it, he couldn't move. "Al, no!" He reached out his right hand for his brother, tears blurring his vision.

But no tears could keep him from seeing the roof of the house fall down, burying Al instantly in a blazing inferno. The fire leapt to his outstretched fingers, licking up his arm in a rush of agony. He tried to scream, but now the fire was inside of him, filling his chest and throat. His stomach became a glowing coal, burning him from the inside out.

A giant eye opened beneath him, staring at him as if it could see right into his soul. He shuddered as he stared back, feeling the full weight of its judgment. Black wisps of smoke rose from the ground around the eye, slowly solidifying until they took the form of hands. Groping hands that reached towards him, stubby fingers stretching to caress his tear-streaked cheeks.

Then they pierced into him, jabbing like a thousand knives directly into his stomach. He had no breath to cry out, no strength to defend himself. He could only lie there and let them punish him, because he knew it was what he deserved.

After all, if he couldn't even save his own family, what right did he have to live on without them?

What right did he have...to get up and move forward...?

_What right..._

* * *

><p>"What right do you think you have to make him an accomplice in your own suicide?"<p>

Gradually, Ed became aware of a harsh voice speaking nearby. He kept his eyes closed, his breath wheezing with a weird hissing sound. There was also a quiet, steady beeping somewhere nearby. He didn't understand, but he was comfortable, so he lay still.

"You had a _responsibility,_ Roy!"

"He's not my kid." That was a voice he recognized. Roy's voice was dull and flat, so unlike the way it hushed with excitement or flowed with beautiful turns of phrase as he told Ed his story. But it was so wonderfully familiar that Ed opened his eyes.

He lay in a hospital bed, but this was a different room than the one he normally slept in. There were lots of blinking machines in this one, and no windows. In a chair a short distance from the bed, Roy sat with shoulders slumped and hands lying limply in his lap. His head was bandaged as always, so he didn't see that Ed was awake. A man stood in front of him, hands curled into fists at his sides. Ed thought he recognized his black hair and squarish glasses. Hughes, Roy's best friend.

"He may not be your son," Hughes was saying, "but that doesn't mean you can just ignore the influence you have on him! Don't you _see_ how much he relies on you?" His voice softened into a harsh, painful rasp. "That boy lost his entire family. As if losing his limbs wasn't enough, he had to watch his mother, his brother, and even his house burn to the ground. And in the wake of all that loss, he's turned to _you. You're_ the one who needs to show him how to move on."

Roy's mouth twisted into an ugly smirk. "He made a bad choice then. I'm a liability to everyone around me."

Hughes sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You need to forgive yourself, Roy. It wasn't your fault, it was a mistake. You know she wouldn't blame you for that." He put a hand on Roy's shoulder. "But she _would_ blame you for not doing everything you could to help those in need. And Ed needs you. Like it or not, he's looking to you for guidance. No father thinks he's cut out for the job, Roy. We just have to do the best we can."

Ed watched Hughes leave, then looked at Roy sitting slumped in his chair. Since he couldn't see, Roy jumped with surprise when Ed spoke. "What happened to me?"

"You're...not supposed to be awake yet," Roy said shakily, turning his head vaguely in Ed's direction. He swallowed, then added quietly, "They weren't sure you were going to make it at first."

"Really?" Ed looked more closely at himself, noticing the wires attached to his chest and the IV taped to the back of his one remaining hand. He felt a thin plastic tube running across the side of his face and poking into his nose, helping him breathe. He didn't think he needed it, but he couldn't dredge up the energy necessary to pull it out. It was much easier to just lie here.

Roy's hands knotted together in his lap. "Why did you take so many pills, Ed?"

Ed blinked. "Because I couldn't sleep."

Roy's mouth gaped open. "But...when they found you...you were barely breathing...and they had to pump your stomach... Don't you realize you could have _died?_"

Ed frowned in confusion. "But you said you had to take the whole bottle or it wouldn't work."

Roy lowered his face into his hands and didn't reply.

Ed fidgeted, then said, "Finish the story."

With a shaky breath, Roy straightened again. "I...I should go. You need your rest, and...they'll need to check your condition now that you're awake."

But as he started to rise, Ed reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Please?"

Roy hesitated, then slowly lowered himself back into his chair. "You know I was just telling you the story to get you to do what I wanted."

His words were a cold dagger in Ed's chest. Yes, he knew. In some ways, he'd known ever since Roy asked him to get the pills. Deep down, he'd realized that Roy was manipulating him, but... "I need the story." He tightened his grip around Roy's wrist. "Please..."

Roy sighed, then nodded, slumping in defeat. "Where were we?"

"Hohenheim's back-up plan was just activated. All the souls that Father stole went back into their bodies, so everyone was saved."

Roy nodded. "But it wasn't enough. Father still had all those souls from Xerxes, and he was still incredibly powerful. He barely managed to keep control of the immense power he'd gained from his enormous transmutation. But he still wanted more power. He wanted to obliterate everything in the world, so that he would be the only thing left alive."

How easily they fell back into the story. It was as if nothing had happened, as if they were once again lounging on Roy's bed while he spun this epic tale of adventure and excitement. No pills, no manipulation, no interruptions. Just a blind man and a crippled boy, clinging to this castle in the air as if it was the only thing that gave their lives meaning.

"So Father transmuted a pillar of stone under his feet, shooting him up through the ruins of Central Command to the surface. The others hurried after him as quickly as they could—transmuting their way up, or climbing as fast as they could. They knew they had to stop Father before he could get any farther, or he would take back the innocent souls they'd barely managed to save.

"They managed to attack him before he could consume any more souls, but they were severely outmatched. Even though they had so many soldiers from Central and Briggs, not to mention several skilled alchemists and even Hohenheim...they didn't stand a chance against Father's power. No matter what they used to attack him, he simply vaporized it before it hit him. He had a perfect dome of protection around him that wouldn't let anything through."

Roy's voice wasn't as powerful or charismatic as it usually was. It sounded as dull and hopeless as the situation the characters in the story faced. "There was nothing they could do. No matter how hard they tried...they just weren't powerful enough. They were all wounded...Alphonse was broken in pieces...and Mustang was blind. He couldn't even _see,_ so how could he help anyone? He just stood there, blind...completely, utterly _useless._ He couldn't even watch his world crumble to pieces. He could only hear the dying screams of everyone he held dear."

Ed noticed two damp spots on the bandage around Roy's face and realized that he was crying. Ed reached out and grabbed Roy's hand. "But then he realized what he _could_ do."

Roy raised his head, his lips trembling. "What?"

"Hawkeye was still by his side," Ed said earnestly. "And _she_ could see. So she pointed him in the right direction and told him where to shoot his flames. And he'd seen the Truth, right? So he could just clap his hands and create fire that way!"

Roy let out a tiny, broken sound when Ed mentioned Hawkeye's name. A tear oozed out from the bottom of the bandage and rolled down his cheek. "But it wasn't enough. Even that wasn't enough. It didn't matter who they had with them. It didn't matter how much they tried to help each other. This was just too much. They couldn't escape.

"Edward fought as hard as he could, but not even he could touch Father. He leapt towards Father's back in one last attack, but Father let out a blast of energy that threw everyone back. Edward's automail arm broke into a thousand pieces, and his back _slammed_ into a piece of debris."

Ed flinched. He almost thought he could feel the other Edward's pain.

"When the dust cleared, Edward looked out and saw that everyone had fallen. No one was moving. Not Hohenheim...not Izumi...not Mustang. Not even Alphonse. Father shuffled towards him, staggering in the wake of such power. Edward tried to get up, knowing that he had to fight back, or Father would take away his life. But he felt a pain in his left arm, and he realized that it was skewered on a metal pole sticking out of the rubble. He couldn't move at all. He couldn't even transmute, not with only one arm. He was doomed."

Tears poured down Ed's face as he stared at the grim, set lines of Roy's jaw. "Why are you killing everybody?"

But Roy continued the story relentlessly. "Father came closer...and closer. 'Stones,' he gasped, reaching out for Edward. 'Life...I need...your life...' And Edward realized that he was all alone. There was no one who could help him, and he was powerless to save himself. All he could do was watch the approach of his own death...and the doom of the whole world."

"I don't want them to die!" Ed sobbed, trying to mop at the mucus running out of his nose and over the tube stuck in it. His mind flitted to the images of his mother and brother screaming his name as the flames devoured them. "Why does _everybody_ have to die?"

"Because it's my story!" Roy gripped the sheets with both hands, gritting his teeth as if in intense pain.

For the third time, Ed put his hand over Roy's. He felt the strong, bony knuckles and imagined he could feel the wounds from Wrath's blades. "It's mine too."

Roy raised his head, and even though his eyes were hidden from sight, Ed almost thought he could see them. The grim, despairing strength in Roy's jaw melted away as tears trickled down his chin and dripped onto Ed's hand. A sob broke from his throat and he gripped Ed's hand with both of his.

"And...A-Alphonse pushed himself up to look at Edward." Roy's voice shook as tears continued to pour down his face, but he continued the story. "A crack ran all the way down his back, just touching the edge of his blood seal. He knew he didn't have much time. So he got Mei to throw her kunai at the rock, making a circle right where Edward's arm had been. Then Alphonse clapped his hands...and traded his soul...for Edward's arm."

"No..." Ed continued to cry, but he couldn't stop listening to the story. "Not Al too..."

Roy gripped his hand so tightly it was starting to hurt. "He had his arm back, after all this time. Even as tears sprang to his eyes, he knew he couldn't let his brother's sacrifice go to waste. He clapped his hands together and broke off the metal pole pinning him down. Then he charged towards Father...and punched him right in the face. Father went sprawling, but Edward didn't let up. He _pounded_ Father into the ground, not giving him a moment to retaliate. And slowly, everyone picked themselves up from the ground and realized...he was _winning._ Because he had the strength of all his friends, all of his loved ones, at his back. And what did Father have? Nothing. He didn't even have his Homunculi anymore. He didn't stand a chance.

"Father fell to the ground, all of his power spent. He couldn't even regenerate his body anymore. The weight of all the power he'd drawn on imploded, and he collapsed in on himself. What little was left of the Dwarf in the Flask was pulled into the Doors of Truth, disappearing back into the abyss that spawned it. And Edward stood tall, victorious, as everyone cheered. He'd won. He'd met so many setbacks in his life, and he'd had to endure so much pain. But nothing could hold him down, because he was _so_ strong."

Ed ran his sleeve across his eyes, but his heart was still heavy. "Al?"

Even though tears were still running down his chin, Roy smiled. "I was just getting to that part." His voice softened, beginning to lilt again in the musical way it used to whenever he told the story. The images in Ed's mind almost seemed to glow. "As everyone was celebrating and drawing closer to congratulate him, Edward scratched a circle in the ruined ground around him. It was a circle for human transmutation. Everyone gathered around to watch, worrying over what he was going to do. 'This is the last transmutation of the Full Metal Alchemist,' Edward said. And he clapped his hands.

"When he reached his Doors of Truth, he knew exactly what he had to do. 'What are you going to give up this time?' The Truth asked him. 'You know it's going to cost you a lot to retrieve your brother from this place.' But Edward just smiled. 'Don't worry. _This_ is what I'm going to trade for him.' He clapped his hands and disintegrated the giant doors in front of him.

"He knew that, without the Doors to open on all that knowledge, he wouldn't be able to perform a single transmutation ever again. But you know what he realized?" Roy's smile widened and he trailed his fingers up Ed's arm until he found his face. His fingers were somewhat clumsy because he couldn't see, but they were gentle and warm as he brushed the tears away. "He didn't need alchemy. He didn't need awesome powers or the renown he'd achieved as the Full Metal Alchemist. His true strength came from his friends and family. The people who knew him as Edward Elric, and loved him just the same."

Ed closed his eyes and drew a shaky breath. His mother used to dry his tears for him when he was little, but it was nothing like this. The hand stroking his hair back away from his face was strong and firm. It made him feel safe and warm in this world that was so wide and cold without his family.

"And Edward turned around from his disintegrating Door, and he found himself face to face with Alphonse. His little brother, back in his body at last. He was skinny and weak from so many years spent in there, but his smile was the same as ever. Edward helped Alphonse to his feet, and they walked arm-in-arm through Alphonse's Door...to reclaim their lives."

Ed drifted back into sleep with the warm pressure of Roy's hand resting on his head.

* * *

><p>The day Dr. Marcoh finally removed the bandages from his eyes, Roy insisted on having Ed there. The boy's wounds were healed, and he would be able to go home as soon as they fitted him with a prosthetic leg and started him on physical therapy. He would go to live with his godmother, Mrs. Rockbell, and her granddaughter Winry.<p>

Roy had spent as much time with Ed as possible since the terrifying morphine incident. He knew some people frowned on this, and there always seemed to be a nurse casually sitting in the corner of the room while they talked. Roy supposed he should just be thankful that Mrs. Rockbell wasn't pressing charges, or he would be in even bigger trouble than he was already.

Even though their story had ended, Ed kept asking questions about what various characters did in the following years, and he came up with things that Edward and Alphonse would do now that they had their real bodies back again. Roy teased him about Edward and Winry getting married and having children, which made Ed yell indignantly about cooties and childhood friends. Roy had always enjoyed the boy's refreshing company, but now his heart felt as light as a feather. It was as though, in relieving Edward's guilt in the story, his own guilt had disappeared.

"All right, I'm going to take the bandages off now," Dr. Marcoh said, cutting into Roy's thoughts.

Roy immediately tensed, but nodded slightly and sat still as he felt the doctor's rough, experienced hands on either side of his head. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath—even Kimbley on the other side of the room. The ticking of the clock seemed unbearably loud as Dr. Marcoh quietly unwound the bandages.

His head felt light and cool when the bandages fell away. His eyes were fused shut; it was as though he had forgotten how to open them in the long days of darkness. Dr. Marcoh gently wiped his eyelids with a soft cloth dipped in warm water, and gradually, they peeled open as if of their own accord.

He hadn't been able to detect a difference in light even with the bandages off, since Dr. Marcoh had turned off the lights and closed the curtains. But when he opened his eyes, light—glorious, clear light—dazzled him. For a moment he couldn't even tell what he was looking at, but then a familiar voice piped up, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Roy blinked, and the blobs of color and light coalesced into a boy he had never seen before. Ed had described himself to Roy before, and now it was like seeing a piece of his imagination come to life. The cocky, irascible teenager he'd imagined for the story was now a small, skinny boy in a wheelchair with an empty sleeve, holding up his left hand.

Slowly, Roy grinned. "Ed? Is that you?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "'Course it's me. Who were you expecting, Garfiel?"

Dr. Marcoh examined him after that, shining a penlight into his eyes and having him read a chart with E's of various sizes. Ed watched all of this with interest, asking the endless questions of childhood, which Dr. Marcoh patiently explained. To Roy, everything passed in a daze. He could _see._

It was like he was forgiven.

Ed lingered after Dr. Marcoh left, and sat on the edge of his bed until the Rockbells came looking for him. They had been introduced while Ed was in the emergency room, but Roy hadn't exactly been very responsive. Or polite. He immediately got out of bed and stood in a sort of half-bow, all too conscious of his faded hospital pajamas. "Mrs. Rockbell, I-I don't know what to say..."

The little old woman squinted up at him through her tiny, round glasses. "So your eyes are healed now?" She smiled kindly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with well-worn creases. "I'm glad for that. Ed's told us a lot about you."

Roy's stomach squirmed with guilt, but then he looked over at Ed and saw that he was trying to pull his wheelchair over to the bed so he could get in. Roy rushed to his side. "Do you need help?"

"Thanks," Ed muttered as he grabbed Roy's hand, using him for support until he dropped into his wheelchair.

When Roy looked up again, he saw Mrs. Rockbell watching him with a look of approval. "All right, we're needed downstairs now," she said as Winry hurried to grab the handlebars. "But don't be a stranger now, hear?"

Roy blinked down at her in surprise. "What?"

Mrs. Rockbell jotted down an address and telephone number and handed it to him. "Stop by for dinner some time. Meals taste better when you've got lots of mouths to feed."

"Yeah!" Ed cried as Winry turned his chair to face the door. "Come visit lots 'n lots n' lots, okay?"

Roy chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "You got it, squirt."

Ed scowled and brushed his hair back out of his face. "Promise?"

"Pinky promise."


End file.
